Welcome to the finale of Sons of Phoros. This post contains parts 3 and 4 out of 4 in the finale. The end. I have another project in line, so stay tuned. Masterpost: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/253000143/0/0 [b]Part 3 - Your Anchor to Reality[/b] “You all did this for me?” Zahir watched as the students arranged a few desks in front of his own. Ellie set the box in front of him and opened it to reveal a strawberry cake, rich with frosting. After having cake, the students presented him with the orange and black paper bag he had seen earlier. Out of it came a clay sculpture of a man in a cloak. Ellie spoke up, “uh, I know you really like your war stories, so I made this for you in my pottery class.” Zahir smiled and set the sculpture on his desk. “It looks wonderful. Thank you.” The students began to leave. Lucas approached Zahir’s desk as Ellie set the last desk back in place. “Mr. Benetnasch! You know that story about Henry Gunther you told us?” Lucas put his hands down and leaned forward, “I want to be like him! I mean, I don’t know exactly what he was thinking, but both possibilities are inspiring. Pride for his country, or pride for the work he did, doesn’t matter! That’s something else!” “That’s good to hear. Gunther’s story is one of my personal favorites as well.” Zahir looked over at the sculpture. “Oh, I gotta run. I have work today. See you, Mr. B!” Lucas bolted out of the classroom, and Ellie let out a hushed laugh. “What a goofball. Hey, Mr. Benetnasch. Is something wrong?” Ellie looked over at her teacher, who had begun staring off into the distance. “Oh, no. I must be tired.” Ellie reminded him of someone. Someone he knew seemingly long ago. Zahir lived the rest of his life as a teacher. When his life ended, he met the thought-voice again, and he went through another life. And the next. =You see. You can never truly be happy, because all things come to an end. Come, herald of the light. Help us cast this world into an eternal slumber.= Zahir felt his will weaken with each life. Every set of years he experienced were lost. Again and again. However, there was an anchor to reality in each of these simulations. Her name was Eltanin. “Back home, Eltanin’s waiting for me.” =She will perish too, eventually. All things will. Existence is a struggle.= “That’s what makes it worth living.” =Come with us! With your light, Arcturus will ensure that nobody is ever pained again.= “Pain doesn’t make life not worth living.” =You are a fool. Though this is taking longer than expected, you will succumb eventually.= Outside, on the surface of Venus, Korne waded through a sea of darkness to get closer to the taken Vex mind at the center of it. He saw a hunter, two warlocks, and a titan, struggling against cages made of Vex pylons. Korne looked down at his hand and stared at it for a moment before reaching down to unholster his hand cannon. “What a mess I’ve stumbled upon, eh?” His ghost watched solemnly as her guardian took in the scene. She thought back to what had led to this moment. “There’s a way to fix Korne?” The ghost asked, floating slightly higher, “I mean, I’m not gonna believe you, but go on…” “Listen, I dug deep into my Goblin body to find this. I’m probably gonna die anyway, so take it.” Wasp placed a bronze key into Korne’s hand. The hunter looked back at the Goblin with a blank stare. “I can fix him? I can really fix him?” “Of course it comes with a catch, my tiny eager companion. Look. You can either leave him as he is now…” “Like hell I’d let him keep suffering!” “Or you can start fresh. Completely fresh. Ain’t no way to go around it, all his memories will be gone.” The ghost floated in silence. “Yeah, I know. It sucks. In my opinion, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” “I would be killing him!” “Good! You won’t have an idiot on your side anymore.” “But… as stupid as he may be, he’s still Korne, in a way.” “Hey, fan head! Get over here now!” Lacer called from outside the warehouse. “Right. Hey, I’m not gonna force you to make a choice, just giving you options here.” The Goblin marched off, leaving Korne alone with his ghost. They stood there for days as his ghost wandered the warehouse, thinking to herself. Korne spoke for the first time since Wasp left, “Ghost… what… we doing here?” She turned to her guardian, tired. “I don’t know.” “Don’t know… then let’s get out…” Korne approached the exit. The ghost perked up. “That’s it!” She quickly floated to the hunter. “Wha…” “Korne!” She transmatted the key into his palm, “You’re going to make your own choice for once! To hell with people telling you what to do your whole life! To hell with ME telling you what to do! Listen closely, Korne. This is important.”